Free The Wicked Go to Hell by Frédéric Dard Page A

first, they continued picking their way awkwardly over rock and shingle, but soon they found themselves on sand and started walking smoothly and soundlessly.
    “Is that better for you?” said Hal.
    “Yes.”
    “You’re enjoying walking on this, aren’t you, old buddy? It’s like strolling on velvet!”
    “You’re right, just like velvet,” said Frank, echoing the thought, infected by his comrade’s high spirits.
    “An island,” said Hal, “is the ideal place to hide. We couldn’t have hoped to find anything better! We can lie low here and live like kings for a while…”
    “Not exactly like kings… How are we really going to live?”
    “There’s shellfish. What do you reckon? Seafood’s very nourishing, you know.”
    “What’ll we drink?”
    “If there are trees, there’s bound to be fresh water.”
    “You think so?”
    “I’m certain… we’ll wait until you’re better. By then, the manhunt will have gone off the boil. The good thing about news is that there’s new news every day… When you’re on your feet again, we’ll move on…”
    “Aren’t you the optimist!”
    They walked on in silence. The splash of the waves grew louder. Suddenly, Frank stopped.
    “Hey!”
    Hal knew what was bothering him.
    “You’re right,” he said, “we’re sinking.”
    They walked on a little farther, but with difficulty, because instead of sand they were now crossing a muddy, treacherousarea which grasped and sucked at their legs like some giant mouth.
    Frank had just sunk halfway up his thighs in shifting mud.
    He started screaming like a madman and flapped his arms wildly. His screams were long, urgent and desperate… He exuded panic. It was contagious.
    “Shut up, you dumb creep!… Don’t you know that voices carry over water?”
    “Help me, Hal! I’m sinking!”
    “I’m sinking too! Lie flat and pull your legs out one after the other. I’ve worked it out. You’ve got to spread as much of your weight as you can over the surface!”
    Frank groaned with the strain. He managed to free his right leg, which had not sunk in very far, but it was as if the left had been cemented in.
    “Help me,” he wept. “Help me! Don’t leave me here!”
    Then he passed out and lay face down in the ooze, which was covered by glutinous kelp.
    “Here we go!” Hal muttered.
    He crawled to where Frank lay and then, bracing himself as firmly as he could, pulled hard on the leg that was stuck fast. It came out slowly, making a sound like a bandage being removed.
    Pulling so hard, Hal felt the last of his strength desert him. The effort was too great—he could do no more!
    But then he was overtaken by a sudden frenzy.
    Gasping, sweating, choking, cursing, he kept on pulling the still-imprisoned leg.
    The brand-new suits they had taken from the personal wardrobe of the owner of the estate were now in a fine mess!They had entirely lost their shape under a stucco of gelatinous mud.
    “I’ve had enough of you!” said Hal through gritted teeth. “You make me sick! If I had any sense I’d just leave you here to die!”
    Yet he went on pulling until he finally succeeded in freeing the submerged leg.
    “Come on! Now do what I do!”
    Frank did not move.
    “Frank! Wake up, for Pete’s sake! The tide’s coming in! Come on, up you get! Pull yourself together, man!”
    But Frank was still out cold. Hal put one ear to his comrade’s chest. There was a regular heartbeat.
    Reassured, he rolled Frank towards him until he was lying alongside his body. Then, spreading himself out on the sucking sand, and with a heave of which he would not have believed himself capable, he managed to haul the body up and onto his own back. But pressed down by such a heavy load, he found it impossible to move forward. He was being crushed by Frank’s dead weight.
    “Damn him!…” he gasped. “Goddam bastard!”
    He moved his arms and legs ridiculously, like a frog, in an attempt to crawl over the mire. He succeeded only in getting his